I put hot sauce on everything. To those unaccustomed to eating with me, the sight must be unseemly. There I am, happy as can be. I sit, content in the slathering of  Sriracha onto everything. As the meal progresses, the hot sauce begins to dominate my porky fleshy husk. My eyes being to water, my nose is running.  Intermittently  as I sweat profusely, I will sniffle up snot goblets sliding on their  mucousy  bellies out of my nose and down my face before sallying forth. Dinner is a battle. I’m fine with this. At least no longer will it be a battle to weaponize my food.

Read the rest of this entry »